Family
by SepticLovebite
Summary: It didn't mean anything, just a dumb holiday that meant people spent money on crap their kids didn't need only to give the credit to some fat pervert in a red suit. SWIFT RETREATS ARC.


This falls again in the Swift Retreats arc - directly following mentions of things within Daddy Gave Me A Name. I know I could probably put a lot of my one shots into a multi-chaptered stories, as it seems to get asked of me alot, but I just find it easier not stitching together each story. My attention fails me frequently. :D It's weird writing about Christmas in March when today we reached the unseasonal high of 20 degrees celsius. Thanks again for your reads and reviews!

TWDTWDTWD

Carol had foolishly agreed to help Carl detangle the paper chains that were tangled into a large box. However, Carl had gotten fed up over an hour ago and abandoned her to rope T-Dog in to help him hang some plastic miseltoe over every door way. Maggie and Glenn were on tree duty, taking an enormous amount of time to get the strings of beads "just right", whilst Lori and Beth took charge of putting out the ornaments. Despite Lori originally telling Carl that he could decorate only the living room, Carol had spotted a tree in the lodge's foyer, garlands and wreaths, trailing all the way through to the kitchen where she made a pot of coffee in between stints of detangling. She'd thought that this would upset her, make her miss Sophia more than she already did, but it was strangely comforting. A touch of normality in a completely crazy world.

These paper chains however, were frustrating her beyond belief and she was almost ready to throw the brightly coloured loops out the door. She'd managed to undo around 10 foot of it, but they all seemed to be in one long strand and she couldn't for the life of her find the other end. She groaned in frustration as Daryl and Rick walked in the door.

"I thought we were going to keep Christmas low key." Rick observed, toying with the wreath hanging on the door.

"Well, Scrooge, it just seemed a waste to only get out the tree, when there are such beautiful things in these boxes." Lori told him, straightening a length of fake holly over the fireplace. "I'm pretty sure that we've earned a little Christmas cheer this year."

"It just seems like a whole lotta trouble for some stuff that's going to go back in the box in a few days." Rick told her, but he handed her the last of the holly from the box.

"Funny that Rick, because I distinctly remember you attempting to compete with the Blumenthal's over the road for a bigger and better tree last year. In fact, I also recall you spending the grocery money on better lights." Lori shot up a glare, but her eyes twinkled and she let out a laugh as Rick opened his mouth to retort, but closed it when he realised he had nothing to comeback with.

Daryl let out a snort, he figured Deputy Rick would be the Mr Christmas sort. He hated this crap. Putting up shit that didn't do crap, it was just stuff to trip over and waste space. It didn't mean anything, just a dumb holiday that meant people spent an fuckload of money on crap their kids didn't need only to give the credit to some fat pervert in a red suit. It was all kinds of fucked up. And it had nothin' to do with Carol. Or that it might upset her to have Christmas chucked in her face after losing her daughter. Except that it did.

It was because he didn't want to have to deal with the tears. He hated women crying. Everything he did seemed stupid and insignificant. And women cried all the time. Hell, between the four of them, somebody cried every day in the lodge. Except that he didn't want her to cry because he didn't want her to be sad. He knew she held back the tears with him, because she knew how he hated crying. He just didn't want her to have a reason to cry. Except that would never happen. There was always something to cry about now.

He'd sat in the arm chair nearest to where she was working, on her hands and knees, detangling paper chains and looked down on her when she let of a huff of exasperation.

"They're not detangling. And I am slowly losing the will to live." She explained, tossing the heap she was holding.

"You're making it hard." He stood up and pulled a penknife from his trouser pocket, flipping it open and splitting several paper loops open randomly. She let out a gasp as he now pulled apart several shorter chains with ease. He could tell she was about to let rip on him for breaking the chains she'd worked on for so long. He tossed her the roll of tape sitting on the table and started to lay out the chains so that they could be retaped together.

Carol picked up the broken loops and it dawned her what he was intending to do.

"Well why didn't I think of that? I just wasted two hours on this." She sighed.

"Because women always complicate shit." He told her, returning to his chair. Rick and Glenn chuckled. Maggie slapped Glenn upside the head and Lori gave Rick a look that could freeze hell, but Carol only laughed.

"Why, you aren't just a pretty face are you, Mr Dixon?" She shot him a sly look, just because she knew he couldn't handle a compliment, no matter how smart-alecky she was about it. He turned and looked at her, surprise etched on his face. They seemed to have unwritten rules about how they behaved in front of people. One of them was no excessive talking. He didn't appear to talk to her anymore than he spoke to anyone else. That included teasing one another. Daryl didn't do jokes. He never got comfortable enough with anyone to have fun with them. It didn't help that there wasn't even time for fun anymore. Until now.

He didn't know how to respond to that. Instead he just jutted his chin out in response and a roll of his eyes. "Yeah, well in our family, I got the brains and the looks."

Glenn let out a guffaw as he hung the last of the baubles on the tree and Daryl shot him a look. "Hey, I'm not doubting those handsome looks, man." Glenn held his hands up in mock surrender.

Daryl didn't say anything. This would be considered progress. If Glenn had said anything to him a few months ago, he'd probably have smashed the Korean's face in. Now, he couldn't remember the last time he had a rude name to call him. He couldn't even remember the last time he even _thought_ of a racial slur. Well, he did call him Dickhead or Asshole on occassion. But then, he called most people that everyday. That transcended race. Merle would be ashamed of him.

Tough shit for Merle though. Turned out he was wrong after all. Didn't really matter what skin colour you were. There was shitty white people and there were shitty black people.

"So we're agreed, no presents. That alright with everyone? I mean, there's not really anything we can get anyway, right?" Lori said, checking with the room. She's already told Carol that they had found a set of books for Carl that they thought he would enjoy in one of the spare rooms, Rick had also found a slingshot in one of the storage sheds. It would be a small gift for their son this year, but Carl would understand. They'd agreed to give him the gifts in private.

"It should be about the spirit of the day." Carol agreed. Although, privately, she was already halfway through making Daryl's present. She had no idea what she could give him. Daryl was a practical man, nothing had sentimental value or was there just because. She'd opted to knit him a scarf, the "never ending" kind that was in a loop so that the edges didn't irritate him by getting in the way. She'd chosen a dark forest green knit, that blended in with the rest of his wardrobe.

"Plus, there's like, a keg of beer in the stores." Glenn told them, a glint in his eye.

"Of which, no-one is drinking excessively!" Maggie forewarned, most likely remembering Beth's birthday, where she, Beth and Carol had horrific hangovers the next morning.

"Yeah, yeah." He told her,standing back to admire his handiwork on the tree.

It looked pretty, Carol thought. Sophia would've loved it.

TWDTWDTWD

Daryl had been outside on the pretext of hunting for almost a week. They all thought he would be able to hunt something for the Christmas dinner in two days time, after his lucky catch of a boar a couple of weeks previous, he'd warned them he was unlikely to find something again, but truthfully, he wasn't trying as hard as he could. He spent a couple of hours in the morning hunting and then escaped to one of the wood sheds, where he was making Carol's gift. He'd chosen to handcraft her a bow. It wouldn't be a crossbow like his, although she could fire it now, it was too heavy for her but also too difficult to make with the tools that he had. He'd opted for a traditional long bow. She had a good eye for this kind of weapon and he liked the idea of one she could use at long range.

It was a hard task, he was no bowyer, but he was almost finished, having had to stop and start to avoid anyone finding out his secret. He suspected she knew, because whenever he came into the lodge in the middle of the day and she was in their room, she behaved skittishly, as if she was watching from the window.

He still thought Christmas was a load of crap though.

TWDTWDTWD

She'd finished the scarf on Christmas eve, just managing to stash it in a paper bag in her bedside cabinet, ready to give him the next day. She heard him trundling through the door, hollering about a deer. She knew he was up to something that week. He didn't once offer to take her out hunting, an unusual move from him of late. He gave the excuse that there was already a lack of game so he couldn't be slowed down or distracted and she took it, but she knew he was up to something. Ordinarily she'd be worried, but when he came back, he behaved exactly as always and it reassured her somewhat. She'd decided it was just the idea of Christmas that made him act oddly and would let it pass before she questioned him on it.

When she came downstairs, he was back on the porch, a picnic table set up. T-Dog and Carl were with him and he was showing them how to gut, skin and cut the deer. She heard flesh squelching and she opted to stay indoors and greet him after he cleaned up. Carol decided to look through the stores to see what tins she could get together for a meal big enough to feed the ten of them.

All the vegetables were coming from tins, but she managed to locate peas and carrots. There was also powdered mashed potato as well as gravy granules. She managed to scrounge out a jar of cranberry sauce and some mustard, which while neither technically went with venison, but it would have to do. There was several kegs of beer in the cellar, plus some cans of soda that they'd kept back for the occasion.

There was also a Christmas pudding from last year and although it's "best before" date was out by a couple of months, she figured it wouldn't do any harm, they ate a lot of stuff that was out of date these days.

Despite her initial reaction that she would hate this day, she found herself believing that she might actually enjoy it.

TWDTWDTWD

Christmas morning began with snow. It had held off for a few days, but when she woke up around eight, the gap in curtains revealed the soft white flakes falling thickly from the sky.

Daryl felt her stir beside him and woke with her. She stretched her arms and legs, willing herself to jump from the warmth. As if he knew what she intended, he reached out and grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the warmth.

"Not yet. S'too early for all this holiday cheer crap." He murmured groggily. She acquiesced, letting him draw her close.

"Merry Christmas." She mumbled from her quilted cocoon.

"Yeah yeah." He responded defiantly. He was absolutely not going to wish anyone Merry Christmas. Not even Carol.

After fifteen minutes or so, Carol shook herself awake before she fell back to sleep for hours. She leaned backwards to reach in her side cupboard for his gift.

"So I know we're hating Christmas this year, but I made you something." She tossed the package on his stomach and she sat up, to watch him open it.

"You didn't got to do that." He told her, propping himself on one elbow to open the brown paper.

"I wanted to." She replied softly, hugging her knees as she watched him pull it out. He ran it through his fingers and didn't say anything for a moment.

"You make this yourself?"

She nodded. He put it on and looped it twice round his neck. It was a perfect fit. "'S perfect. Thank you." He bent down and took her hand, brushing his lips across her knuckles. This was only the second gift her could ever recall getting from anyone. The first was his crossbow, which Merle got him for his 18th birthday. He ventured that this scarf was better. Because she made it herself, but also because she didn't have to. She wanted to.

He got up and rooted under the bed, where he had hidden her present the night before, wrapped in a burlap sack. She looked genuinely surprised when he pulled it onto the bed and it pleased him to know that he could do that for her.

She pulled out the bow slowly, shaking out the dozen or so arrows he had also managed to put together. She ran her hands up and down the the curve of the wood and looked at him agape.

"Where did you get this?" She asked him, plucking the string.

"Made it."

"You _made _this?"

He nodded. "Thought it'd be better for you than a crossbow, its lighter and less bulky. I'll teach you how to use it, but you're pretty good on mine so I figure it won't take you long. I'll show you how to make arrows too. I need to make you a quiver to hold them in, but there wasn't time to do it for today. I got the leather to make it though..."

"This is amazing." She held it up, as if she were to use it and he moved her hand into the right position. "It's exactly the right size."

He gave a small smile. "Bout time you had somethin' of your own. It's the best kind of weapon to have. Feeds you, defends you, it's silent and long range."

"I can't believe you made this..." She ran her hands over the frame again, amazed. She stopped and turned to him. "I knew you were up to something out there!"

He scoffed. "I knew you were watchin' me from the window."

"Only so you didn't catch me making your scarf." She told him, getting up to place the bow and arrows against the wall next to his. "Will you take me out tomorrow to use it?"

He nodded and got up to join her as she opened the curtains fully.

"Thank you." She told him, grasping him by the forearm. "For the best gift I have ever gotten. And for making this day a million times better than it should be." She kissed him on the cheek and hugged him, arms tight around his waist. He froze briefly before relaxing and reciprocating her embrace.

He didn't say anything. He didn't know what to say exactly. He never thought he would ever feel close to someone. When Merle disappeared, he swore that he would always be ready to leave this group at the drop of a hat and never look back. Yeah, that was never going to happen. He couldn't imagine leaving anyone of these people now, especially her. Never her. He would never walk away from her.

TWDTWDTWD

Dinner was a success. There was a minor meltdown when she thought that the venison would be over cooked and she made everyone leave the kitchen so she could collect herself. Carol didn't really understand why she was panicking, she often made meals for the group by herself. Maggie and Beth were not particularly adept at cooking for large numbers and Lori was prone to throwing up in the middle of any sort of food prep so she was frequently left in charge of the kitchen. But today was special. They'd even stopped keeping watch in the penthouse for everyone to eat together.

Eventually Daryl came ambling in and she had to stop herself from screaming at him to get out so she could drain the vegetables in peace. She soon regretted her thought however, when he presented her with a glass of red wine and a kiss on the side of her head before leaving just as silently as he arrived. She took two large gulps from the glass and everything came together.

Afterwards, the men insisted on washing up, chivvying the women from the kitchen. Rick handed Carol another glass of wine and joked that it was their thanks for all the meals cooked through out the year.

They sat on cushions on the floor of the living room, board games stacked on the coffee table. Carl was pleased as punch when he bankrupted everyone else in Monopoly, whilst Glenn wouldn't stop bragging about his prowess with Operation. Even Daryl joined in for a couple of rounds of poker, although the several glasses of cider meant that his poker face wasn't as good as it could've been. By eleven pm, only Glenn, Maggie, Carl and Beth remained playing whilst everyone else began to doze off on the sofas and armchairs. Carol sat on the love seat near the window, watching them all with her last glass of wine. Everyone had smiles on their faces, even as they slept. Daryl joined her after draining his glass lifting her feet to squeeze in next to her and rest them on his lap. He sat there silently, stroking her feet and she sighed in contentment.

She thought when Sophia died, that she had no family left. Her world had crumbled around her. But looking at these people, all these different people, this wonderful man sitting by her side, that her family hadn't disappeared. It had only evolved and grown.

TWDTWDTWD

I think I am gonna leave the Swift Retreats arc for a little while. It's getting mighty fluffy. I've got some angsty fun in the pipeline! :)


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